at the twilight

There is a sight I love seeing. In school, inside the engineering building. In the afternoons, around half past 3. Along the corridors or around the benches, I see them preparing to leave. Decked in their pressed shirts and blouses, with fine patterned prints. With their bags and gold watches, looking like they’re going to see no less than the mister or the missus. Perfumed subtly and styled in pomade, they wait for each other at that certain hour. The familiar faces of the uncles and the aunties who take care of the dust, litter and green patches. It’s a sight that puts a smile because I also see the hard work they put in the mornings – dressed with the same uniform and going about their cleaning. Without much of a chatter, but maybe a tune or some lyrics. Even a nod or greeting from their well-aged faces can easily change the mood of my musings. To some, it may be a sad reality that someone’s grandparent is still working. But to them, it may be everything, knowing that they’re still contributing to something.

They gather their belongings and hail the next bus that will bring them. Til the next morning.